


rhapsodies

by nikidons (orphan_account)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, aesthetic drabbles i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8814697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nikidons
Summary: — I love you. (I know.)





	1. viviance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> afternoon in a colorful city.

Jazz music floats through an open window, borne by a light breeze that rustles at the chiffon curtains that frame the aged, gilded panes that Guang-Hong Ji rests his elbows on, staring down at the streets below. An old novel, pock-marked with notes written into the margins and opened to the hundredth page, lies on the kitchen table and there is a glass of iced tea perched on the windowsill. From another room, he can hear singing: from the outside, he smells spice and sugar. 

Bliss, he considers this. It's different from his native China, with smoke and people and the constant hustle and the strange parallel accompaniment of soaring mountains and ambience in ancient forests: yet it's not the contrast that he loves, although it is refreshing. He thinks of this colorful city, with its walls painted in saturated color and the perpetual laziness of the atmosphere, a certain kind of special with its own idyllic aura a steadily-growing ideal in the back of his mind. An unique step to a personal kind nirvana, perhaps. 

Leo's also here. That's a bonus.

The singing in the other room ceases, and the old door creaks open, slowly then all at once, on rusted hinges as Leo breezes in, swoops down to press a chaste kiss to Guang-Hong's cheek. There's a purr in his voice as he whispers a line from the lyrics of an old Spanish song in Guang-Hong's ear, and Guang-Hong hums in response. "It's a nice day," he says simply, and Leo nods and slings an arm across his shoulders as he turns his gaze back to the building across from them, painted in vivid blues, cerulean and ultramarine, scarlet flowers blossoming from the pots in the windows. He thinks it's a lovely sight.

"Do you want to go out later, love?" Leo breathes in his ear, pulling a chair over from the birch table to the window to sit down next to Guang-Hong. He nods: the curtains flutter in the breeze. A street vendor can be heard yelling in the distance.

Guang-Hong takes a sip from the glass resting on the windowsill. "There aren't many places like this," he murmurs as he surveys an old car, all angles and flourishes and painted a vivid orange putter down the narrow street. "But again, isn't this just a passing thing?" 

"It's home," says Leo. "One of them, anyway." 

"Really," Guang-Hong murmurs. He shifts, moving closer to Leo, and leans his head on Leo's shoulder. In response, Guang-Hong finds an arm looped around his waist and then he's pulled into Leo's lap, Leo's chin on his shoulder and his breath ticking his neck. 

"You're another," Leo hums, and Guang-Hong can feel his ears burn. 

"That's cheesy," he laughs, but he melts into Leo's grip anyway as he continues to take in the view from the window. It's a strange, almost surreal wonder, this oversaturated world. "But the feeling's mutual, I suppose." In the back of his mind, he notes how the sunlight dapples the floor of the room. 

Outside, a man begins strumming a guitar. The shouts of children can be heard in the streets: the sky is clear and the weather mild. The tenant on the fifth floor of the brightly-painted pink six-story house next to theirs opens the window, and the scent of fried dough drifts through the air as he dips his forehead down to touch Leo's, laces his fingers in his hair and smiles. "I love you," Leo breathes out, and Guang-Hong smiles.

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr at avioxe
> 
> i am tired


	2. azalea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> morning rain brings ambience.

When he wakes up it's five in the morning and it's raining a steady thrum on the roof of the building like a young lover's heartbeat. It's the kind of drizzle that he likes, the no-thunder sort, the kind that carves rivers down the windowpanes, dark valleys in the flowerpot soil that grows the azaleas on their windowsill.

Early light, dampened by the clouds, drifts into the room from the two windows on the far side of the room. He can make out the streets below, outside, if he squints, but Guang-Hong instead contents himself with examining the little bears printed on his pillowcase, listening to the steady breaths of Leo behind him and the rain outside.

Behind him, Leo shifts his arm over Guang-Hong's waist and he leans back into Leo's chest gladly, tangles his legs further in the cotton sheets and listens to the sound of water over ceramic tile, the metallic, damp-sounding ting of the windchimes. "Good morning," Leo breathes into his ear after a moment of ambience, pulling Guang-Hong closer.

He smiles softly into the blanket. "Good morning," says Guang-Hong.

In response, Leo tucks his chin neatly over the place where his shoulder meets his neck and hums appreciatively.

"Rainy day today," says Leo, and Guang-Hong nods, leaning into his embrace for a moment before wiggling away and slipping out of their shared queen bed.

"The azalea flowers finally bloomed," Guang-Hong murmurs, and opens the window curiously to examine the blossoms better. The sleeves of his too-large nightshirt slip down over his fingers as he reaches out, brushing the leaves in the pot before drawing his arms back in with a light, breathy sigh.

Neither of them have the affinity for gardening nor for plants, but Leo is patient and Guang-Hong is careful, delicate so they make it work, planting six azalea clusters on the edge of their windowsill and watching them grow. They're both quite proud, really.

He leans out of the window, just a little, to brush his fingers against the petals. They're the lightest of powder-pink, delicate and soothing, and he contemplates picking one in a later season.

"Careful," Leo says from behind him, hands already firm on Guang-Hong's hips as a just-in-case gesture and Guang-Hong laughs and says okay as he ducks back inside. Leo wraps his arms around him, one over his shoulder and one around his waist, and he welcomes the embrace.

They stay like that, watching the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drabble word vomit is my specialty
> 
> hmu on tumblr at avioxe


	3. memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cooking together, and a little more.

There's a cool breeze, a spring breeze, that flutters the white curtains of their kitchen window, stirs up the pages of the cookbook on the table and ruffles Leo's hair as he faces the stove.

Guang-Hong's perched himself on the counter, counting beans and sorting spices, when this happens and he sits there, watches Leo brush his hair out of his face with a surprised mumble. "See?" He says, a laugh spilling from his lips as he picks a piece of garlic off the counter to inspect it, "even the weather's happy today, isn't it?"

Leo chuckles. "I am, too, being with you." He wipes his hands on his apron and turns the flame to low on the stove, turning to Guang-Hong with a smile. "We should do this more often, yeah?"

"Maybe," Guang-Hong replies. He puts on a playful smirk and taps his finger to his chin, playfully, as if contemplating the thought. "I don't know, should we?"

Leo grins and takes a big stride towards him, wrapping his hands around Guang-Hong's waist and picking him up off the counter and twirling him around. In response, Guang-Hong giggles and drapes his arms around Leo's neck. " _Hey_!" He laughs as Leo spins him in the air, just for a bit, before setting him down. When his feet stand firm on the ground he pulls Leo down a bit and kisses him, gently. It's a euphoric feeling, a soft glow.

"I don't know," Leo echoes when they pull away. "Should we?" He mimics Guang-Hong's thoughtful expression for a moment before touching their foreheads together.

Guang-Hong laughs again. "Don't be _such_ a tease," he says. He glances over Leo's shoulder to check on the stove for a brief moment before directing his attention back.

"A little is okay," Leo justifies. He leans back in for a second kiss, nipping at Guang-Hong's bottom lip when he does. Guang-Hong lets him.

"And what's your definition of a little?" He asks, voice lowered as they break apart again.

"Not enough," Leo replies with a grin. He picks him up by the waist again, sits him on a free space on the counter.

His hands wander a bit as he lets go, and Guang-Hong swats at him gently. "The _food_ ," he chides, although he's unable (or unwilling) to stop the coy smile he sends.

" _You_ ," Leo breathes back, and Guang-Hong bites his lip. He knows that his face is flushed by now—blushing has always been his reaction to literally everything—and he doesn't really mind. Not at all.

"Then remember this when your food burns," Guang-Hong replies, tapping Leo lightly on the nose. "That'll be a lesson learned."

"Oh, I'll remember, all right," Leo says, pulling him closer. "And when I'll think about this day, I'll think about you," he adds, brushing his lips against Guang-Hong's neck as he leans in against him. "I hope you'll think of this and remember me, too." 


End file.
